


Vechicle

by JenJo



Series: 52 Short Stories in 52 Weeks [12]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, winterhawk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 06:58:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6413563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenJo/pseuds/JenJo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re sure we’re going the right way?”<br/>“Are you questioning me, Barton?”<br/>“No, Barnes, I’m not. It’s just, this doesn’t look like the right way.”<br/>“Trust me, it is.”<br/>“The last time you said that, I ended up in the infirmary for a month.”<br/>“...You were supposed to be in the infirmary for a month. You escaped after two days.”<br/>“Same thing.”<br/>~~~~~<br/>Clint & Bucky spend some time in a quinjet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vechicle

**Author's Note:**

> Week 13. A story that takes place entirely inside a vehicle.

“You’re sure we’re going the right way?” Clint looked at the instruments; they were flying south, and  _ appeared  _ to be going the right way. Something wasn’t sitting right with Clint though.

“Are you questioning me, Barton?” Bucky sat in the co-pilots seat. He had a tablet in his hand, the directions displayed on it.

“No,  _ Barnes,  _ I’m not. It’s just, this doesn’t look like the right way.” Clint had flown this route before. He didn’t remember having to fly over so much desert.

“Trust me, it is.” Bucky grumbled, not looking up from the tablet.

Clint engaged the autopilot, before turning to look at Bucky, narrowing his eyes. “The last time you said that, I ended up in the infirmary for a month.”

Bucky lowered the tablet, before levelling a glare at Clint. “...You were supposed to be in the infirmary for a month. You escaped after two days.”

Clint shrugged, turning back to look out the window. “Same thing.”

Bucky snorted, barely suppressing a laugh.

“Oh? You laughing Barnes?”

“You must be hearing things darling,” Bucky mumbled under his breath, picking the tablet up again.

But not enough under his breath that Clint didn’t hear it. “Sure,  _ I’m  _ the one hearing things.” Clint shook his head again, and looked at their coordinates again. “Run those numbers by me again?”

“Clint,” Bucky groaned, rolling his head to his side so that he could look at Clint. “You’re going the right way. The tablet is updating in real time, see?” He turned the tablet around; Clint looked at it briefly, seeing the green triangle making progress towards the green square, with green dashes representing their trajectory. “If we were going the wrong way, I’d know it before you did.”

“But see, I’ve flown this before. The Facility honestly isn’t in this direction.”

“Maybe your eyesight is failing you. You are getting old.”

“Says the guy born almost a century ago.”

“And yet my eyesight is perfect. Stop complaining, is the company really that bad?”

Clint turned to face Bucky. He offered a sheepish smile. “Sorry? It’s been a long day, and I didn’t expect to be having to fly a cargo drop.” He rubbed his hands through his hair. “I appreciate the company, I know you don’t like spending time in these things.” 

They had discovered the discomfort early on. Bucky would be fine en route to a mission, but the longer he spent inside a vehicle without a mission to get to, the more uncomfortable he got. The psychiatrists had attributed it to an intolerance of confined spaces due to extended periods of time in the cryo chamber. Bucky didn’t talk about it.

Bucky put the tablet aside, and took Clint’s hands in his. “I don’t mind when the company is this good.” Bucky lifted up Clint’s hands to kiss them. “I know it sucks, but there really wasn’t anyone else.”

“In all of S.H.I.E.L.D?” Clint raised an eyebrow.

Bucky shrugged. “You’re the best?”

“This is true. Still,” Clint looked back out the window. “This doesn’t seem like the right way.”

Bucky pulled Clint forward so that he toppled out of his seat and onto Bucky’s lap. “Stop complaining,” Bucky said against Clint’s lips, before pressing in for a kiss. Bucky wrapped his arms around Clint’s lap, while Clint brought his hands up to frame Bucky’s face.

“Why do I feel like.” Kiss. “You’re trying to distract me.” Kiss. “Mr Barnes?”

“I have no idea.” Kiss. “What you’re talking about.” Kiss. “Mr Barton.”

“I’m sure you don’t.” Kiss. “The same way I’m sure that you don’t have a hand down my pants right now.”

“You gonna do anything about it?”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

“So time to stop talking?”

“Suppose.”

 

~~~~~  50 minutes later ~~~~~

 

“This is because I had surgery last week, isn’t it?”

Bucky blinked at Clint, sitting up straighter. “What?”

Clint gestured to the jet. “Flying a cargo run. It’s because I had surgery last week. Making me feel useful even though I’m not cleared for duty for another month.”

“You do need to recover.” Clint had had an arthroscopy on his knee the week before, having ditched the crutches the day before. “You’re only just back to walking without crutches, let alone going on any ops.”

Clint shrugged. “Yeah, I know. But I am perfectly fine recovering at home, you know.”

“I am aware, yes. But I am sure that more than your well-being is taken into account when assigning people to jobs.”

“You would think, but I’ve been around S.H.I.E.L.D for a lot longer than you. They work in mysterious ways. Plus, the tower has a television.”

“I get it Barton, you’d rather be at the tower. Not much we can do about that until after the run.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get this over with. How much further?”

“A little bit more.”

 

~~~~~ 1 minute later ~~~~~

 

“And food. So much food, never runs out.”

Bucky, who had closed his eyes, opened them and turned to face Clint. “Clint, you are aware that I live  _ with you _ ? I know what it’s like at the tower.”

Clint nodded, before spinning his chair around, head thrown back and arms out. “Still. So much food.”

“Clint.”

“Right, right. Shutting up now.” Clint stopped spinning, and sat up straight, taking control of the jet again.

Bucky snorted as he closed his eyes again. “If I believed that that was a possibility, I’d start believing anything.”

Clint pointedly refrained from commenting. 

 

~~~~~ 15 minutes later ~~~~~~

 

“What do you mean, we can’t land?” Clint said into the headset. 

[Exactly that] the base replied. [Circle in the air, fly away for a while. We’re on code four two eight: you can’t land. We’ll let you know when you can.]

Clint ripped off the headset, throwing it onto the control panel. “What the hell?”

“Clint?” 

Clint turned to Bucky, and kept his face blank. “Code four two eight.”

Bucky stared at Clint for a moment; when Clint nodded, Bucky dropped his head into his hands. His breathing sped up, not enough for most people to have noticed, but enough for Clint to notice.

“Hey,” Clint stood up, and stood to the side of Bucky. 

Bucky didn’t respond, muttering under his breath so that Clint couldn’t make out what he was saying.

“You’re going to have to speak up. I’m an old man, remember?”

Bucky looked up at Clint, eyes blank. “So old.”

Clint gave him a smile. “Sounds like my Bucky. Talk to me?”

Bucky, eyes still blank, shook his head. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Protecting you.”

“From what?”

“Me.”

“I don’t need protecting from you.”

Bucky stared at Clint. “So old, you’re losing your memory. Remember the last time?”

Clint nodded. He remembered, even had the scars still. He lifted his hand to his chest, pressing where the most vicious of the scars sat.

“Of course I do. But it was long ago, and you’ve got a lot more control these days.” Clint nodded at Bucky. “I trust you.”

Bucky shook his head, eyes beginning to become alive again. “You are an idiot.”

Clint shrugged. “Yeah, but as I continually point out to you,  I’m your idiot. Can I have a hug?”

Bucky’s lips quirked in the beginning of a smile as he held out his arms for Clint. Clint took the opportunity, throwing his arms around Bucky’s neck and resting his head on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Better?”

Bucky sighed, tightening his arms around Clint’s waist. “Slightly. Thank you.

 

~~~~~  10 minutes later ~~~~~

 

[Can I talk to Barnes?]

Clint raised an eyebrow as he handed the headset to Bucky.

Bucky nodded, listening to the communication.

“So, the team was called away on three separate callouts,” Bucky said, taking off his headset. 

“So? What’s that got to do with a supply run?” Clint looked at Bucky, who was avoiding looking at Clint as he returned the headset to it’s holder. “Unless this isn’t just a supply run.”

“It’s not,” Bucky admitted, finally looking at Clint. “There was to be a party.”

“A party? For what?”

Bucky shook his head, smiling. “Of course you’d forget.”

“What did I forget?” Clint asked, raising his hands in confusion.

Bucky rolled his eyes as he answered. “Our anniversary.”

Clint lowered his hands, blinking owlishly. “Our anniversary? But that’s not until the thirty first.”

Bucky gave Clint a look. “Today is the thirty first.”

“What?” When Bucky nodded, Clint groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “Damn, I must’ve lost track of days somewhere.”

“Not important in our line of work.”

Clint dropped his hands, and looked at Bucky. “But it’s no excuse for forgetting that today was our anniversary.” Clint then realised something. “That’s why you came along.”

“Yeah, and that’s why you were flying,” Bucky explained. “As we made our way over, the party would be set up. The team would all be there, it was to be their present to us. Now, they’ve all been called out, so it’s just going to be the two of us.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Clint asked, smiling. “I mean, you and me? We know how to have fun. Still want to go to the base?”

“Might as well,” Bucky shrugged. “The place was cleared out for the party.”

“Wait, so what you’re saying is that the two of us have the run of the base for the night?”

“Until they get back from their assignments, yeah.”

Clint’s smile turned conspiratorial. “Want to see how much trouble we can get up to before then?”

“Mr Barton, you truly have the best ideas.”

“I like to think so.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :)  
> Next week: A story from a villain’s perspective.


End file.
